


This World Is Not Fair But We're Okay

by RightNow2808



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 23:38:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13534983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RightNow2808/pseuds/RightNow2808
Summary: The skin around Rafa’s eyes wrinkled when he smiled, beautiful. He looked more awake now, eyes focused and so warm. Roger was in love.





	This World Is Not Fair But We're Okay

**Author's Note:**

> Hola, everyone!  
> This is a little something I wrote today, just to remind myself how strong and beautiful Rafa is.  
> It's short and not very detailed, but I tried to make it cute and I hope you'll like it.  
> I'm currently also working on a longer piece, which I will post as soon as I finish (which might take a while though, but I may surprise you with some more short ones like this), I just enjoy writing so much. :)  
> Also if you have any prompts (and I want sexy please), just slide into the comments :)  
> I would be very happy to see your opinions and kudos'.  
> Thank you and enjoy :)

It was late when Roger finally got to Manacor. The flight was delayed, and he landed at one in the morning. It was getting on for three when he finally pushed his key into the lock of Rafa’s front door - their front door.

He stepped inside and sighed, letting his bag drop to the floor and wheeling his suitcase into the corner of the hall. The night outside was cold, and he shivered although the hall was pleasantly warm. He was so tired, and he almost fell when he bent down to take off his shoes. He hung up his jacket and locked the door, before slowly walking inside. The lights were turned off in the living room, the space bathed in the soft moonlight that shone through the wall window. The water in the swimming pool was rippling gently in the wind.

He went to the kitchen and took a glass of water. He drank it up eagerly and then opened the fridge to see if there was anything tasteful to eat. The truth was he was procrastinating. He wasn’t sure what he was going to find in the bedroom. Something like guilt has been chasing him ever since the match point. It just wasn’t fair.

He ate a banana and threw the peel in the bin, washing his hands. He sighed then and looked around himself. The place looked too spotless and clean, like Rafa wasn’t even here. His phone was charging on the kitchen counter, Roger noticed. He couldn’t resist pressing the home button. The screen lit up. Some of his messages were there, still unopened. The one he sent when he landed in Madrid, the other one when he landed here and then the one he sent when he sat down in his car at the airport. Rafa seemed to have gone to bed early.

Roger swallowed, his throat feeling tight, before he finally gathered the courage to grab his bag and go upstairs. The door to their bedroom was open – Roger clearly remembered the time Rafa told him with a serious expression on his face that the door would always be opened to him. He stepped inside quietly.

The TV was on, but the sound was muted. Taking a brief look Roger noticed it was a documentary about animals and then his look was drawn to the bed. Rafa was snuggled under the covers on his side of the bed, turned away from Roger, little puffs of air escaping him. Roger couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face.

He was sad when Rafa told him he was returning home and wouldn’t stay in Australia with him, but he tried to understand. Rafa was hurt – mind and body – and staying at the tournament would just remind him of what had happened. He needed to go home, start his rehabilitation programme. He worked best at home. Roger knew that and that’s why he was here.

He grabbed his toilet bag and left the bedroom to go wash his teeth and refresh a bit, before returning. He took off his jumper and shirt, pushing the sweatpants down his legs, before climbing under the covers. Rafa’s body radiated heat and Roger eagerly pressed against him, still feeling a bit cold from the weather outside.

Rafa jumped, probably scared. “Qué?” his sleepy voice grumbled. He turned around quickly, eyes barely open, hands grabbing Roger’s arms quick like a lightning. At least Roger could be sure Rafa would never sleep through abduction. His reflexes were perfect.

“It’s okay, it’s just me,” Roger said and felt Rafa relax considerably against him.

“Rogi?” He sounded like he couldn’t quite believe what was happening. He was blinking rapidly, trying to clear his eye sight. He was waiting for Roger but then fell asleep when he didn’t come by eleven which he said he would.

“Yes.”

“What… what’s the time?” The jump from Spanish to English was difficult for him. He was rubbing at his eyes, trying to wake up.

“Half past three.” In the slight light of the TV, Roger could see Rafa frown.

“So late,” he mumbled, but then a smile spread slowly across his face. Roger stared at him, at this beautiful creature who loved him and once again realised how incredibly lucky he was. “You win. Congratulations.”

“I already got your text,” Roger reminded him with a smile, pulling Rafa close. Rafa went willingly, more than happy to feel him again.

“You’re so cold,” Rafa murmured and threw both a leg and an arm over Roger’s body. “I warm you up. Sí, but I have to congrat again. You are amazing.”

Roger suddenly couldn’t reply, his throat was feeling tight once again. He was happy, he was, but was once again reminded of the unfairness of the world. He placed his hand on the top of Rafa’s bare thigh, fingers tentatively skimming across the hurt muscle. Rafa stiffened for a second, but then reminded himself who this was and just pressed his face into Roger’s neck with a long sigh. He kissed the skin there softly with so much care.

“It’s not fair,” Roger said, suddenly feeling choked. His thumb stroked Rafa’s hip bone lightly. Rafa just sighed again. He did this a lot lately.

“Many things not fair,” he said finally, voice muffled against the skin of Roger’s neck.

“How is it?” Roger asked. “Baby, look at me.”

Rafa looked up, his almost sad expression turning into a smile. There was no need for Roger to worry. He needed to let him know that. “Don’t worry, I had worse. It’s okay.”

“It’s not fair,” Roger said again, stubbornly. His fingers curled around Rafa’s, squeezing his hand. “But at least I beat Marin.”

Rafa rolled his eyes. “Is not his fault. But I’m still glad you won. Twenty, Roger, twenty. I’m so proud of you.”

The skin around Rafa’s eyes wrinkled when he smiled, beautiful. He looked more awake now, eyes focused and so warm. Roger was in love.

“I wish it was you,” Roger replied, quietly. Rafa’s smile widened.

“No, you don’t. You’re not that humble.”

“You’re right,” Roger laughed. “But at least I wish it was me who beat you.”

Rafa snuggled even closer to him, bodies pressed tightly together. It’s only been a week, but it felt like so much more.

“Don’t worry, I gonna win Wimbledon, no?” Rafa seemed so sure saying that and Roger smirked.

“No, I am.”

“I will tire you and you can’t run, I gonna win.”

“And how exactly are you going to do that?” Roger raised his eyebrows, poking at Rafa’s firm stomach to make him squirm and giggle quietly.

“I make you fuck me.” And really, Rafa has always been so blunt which was one of the things Roger loved so much about him. They could talk about almost everything openly and freely without beating around the bush.

“Oh, but then you won’t be able to run either.”

“I find way, no?”

Roger couldn’t suppress a loud snort and Rafa started giggling wildly, such a beautiful sound. After they stopped laughing, Rafa asked quietly, “Are you tired? We go to sleep?”

Roger couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He didn’t miss how something in Rafa’s eyes lit up. Something deep and hot and something that Roger was starting to feel too.

“I think I can manage a few more minutes. What did you have in mind?”

“I no have nothing in mind,” Rafa replied, teasing.

“Well, then I will go to sleep.”

Rafa gave him a playful glare, resting his head on Roger’s shoulder. Roger stroked the hair back from his face. It was longer now, the strands gently curling across his forehead and around his ears. Roger tucked a strand behind his ear, a gesture Rafa did so often and that Roger had always found adorable.

“Fuck me, come on.” And, wow, Rafa went from a human marshmallow to this in less than a second and Roger couldn’t quite keep up. “Then we go to sleep.”

“Oh my God, you’re horrible,” Roger groaned, but he was already rolling around to reach to the bedside table. He fished around the drawers for lube, while trying not to release Rafa, even if for a single second.

“Why I am horrible?” Rafa asked, eyes wide, genuinely looking surprised. Roger didn’t answer, pushing Rafa to lie on his back and climbing on top of him. He propped himself up on his elbows and leaned down, pressing his lips to Rafa’s. The Spaniard’s hands immediately came up, fingers tangling into his hair, tugging slightly. “Answer me,” he demanded, pulling Roger’s head away after a short kiss.

“Pushy,” Roger smirked and tried to kiss him again, but Rafa’s hold on his hair was firm and he whined. “It doesn’t matter, just let me- ah, kiss you.”

“No.” Rafa said, staring at Roger intently. “Tell me why I am horrible.” Roger saw no exit out of this. Rafa wouldn’t release his hair until he answered him. The press of their hips together was getting him hard and one week without having him was too much. He was getting more desperate by the second.

“Just… what you say… You turn me on so much.”

Rafa’s face relaxed, the line between his brows disappearing. The grip on Roger’s hair loosened but didn’t disappear.

“This is not bad?” he said but it came out more like a question. Roger snorted, Rafa’s hands finally slipping from his hair in confusion. He could finally lean down and kiss him again, longer and harder this time, gaining entrance into his mouth. He tasted like toothpaste and Nutella which was a funny combination, but Roger still wanted more.

“Of course it’s not bad.”

Rafa was panting against his mouth, when they finally parted to breathe. So very carefully, Roger pushed Rafa’s legs apart, fingers once more coming to rest against his hip, making sure Rafa wasn’t in pain as he settled in between his strong thighs. Rafa was looking at him with something like admiration and so much love. Roger couldn’t bear it and he leaned down to kiss him again. He pushed his hips against Rafa to feel him, letting them both get used to the feeling of being together again after so much time.

When Rafa started getting impatient which was very soon and started whining, Roger finally took some pity on him and took off the only pieces of clothing left, their boxers.

“Hurry, Roger,” Rafa was saying close to his ear over and over again. Roger was slowly losing control. He grabbed the lube, trying to open it, Rafa’s hand sneaking down, taking them both into his large hand and stroking them slowly. He was so on the edge, he didn’t dare risk anything.

When Roger finally got his fingers wet he batted Rafa’s hand away, which took him a lot of willpower and then reached down in between Rafa’s legs, pressing slick fingers inside of him. Rafa moaned, his hands resting on Roger’s shoulders, gripping, then moving to his hair, stroking through the silky strands that were already getting wet with sweat. His hips pushed up, trying to get more and it was all pleasure, no pain.

Roger watched him, mesmerised. Rafa was always beautiful, but seeing him like this, spread out under him, eyes shut, mouth open, face flushed and panting, he was breath taking. He could do this forever, just making Rafa fall apart with his fingers.

Roger pressed into him, slowly but firmly until his hips were pressed flush against Rafa’s glorious backside. Rafa was making a lot of noise and Roger was drowning in it along with other feelings. He could feel Rafa’s nails digging into the skin at the back of his neck and he groaned, hips twitching. He fucked him slow and deep the way Rafa liked when he needed assurance and when a part of his body needed to be minded. He was murmuring in Spanish in between his moans and whimpers right into Roger’s ear.

Roger finally silenced him with another kiss, biting at Rafa’s bottom lip gently and licking everywhere he could reach. He held himself propped up with one hand and used the other one to touch Rafa everywhere he could – his strong arms, warm, sweaty chest, muscled abdomen, strong thighs and calves where Rafa had them wrapped around his waist. He left the best for the end and when he finally wrapped his fingers around Rafa’s cock, the Spaniard was almost sobbing with the feeling of it all, small tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

They came together, panting and moaning against each other’s mouth. Rafa was holding Roger tightly, both arms wrapped around him while Roger fucked him through their climaxes and when he couldn’t hold himself up anymore, he fell on top of Rafa with a satisfied sigh.

Rafa was running his hand through Roger’s hair, breathing deeply. He kissed Roger’s forehead.

“Get off, you’re heavy,” he mumbled after finally gaining back the ability to be coherent. Roger groaned, but obeyed, reminding himself of Rafa’s iliopsoas. He pulled out slowly and lay down beside Rafa. The Spaniard immediately snuggled close to him, throwing his leg across Roger’s hips. He liked to do this a lot.

“Are you okay?” Roger asked and couldn’t resist pressing his fingers against Rafa’s muscle one more time. Rafa just rolled his eyes and batted his hand away.

“Sí, sí, okay, stop worrying. I am sticky,” he said and looked down, observing where his stomach was wet with come.

“Should we shower?” Roger asked, but Rafa merely looked at him like he was insane.

“You are crazy,” he declared. “In the morning, we sleep now.”

“Whatever you want. Hey, I love you, you know?”

Rafa rolled his eyes again. “No, you never tell me before, what are you talking about?”

Roger laughed, distinctly remembering how he once told Rafa this seventy-five times in a day. Rafa counted, or at least that’s what he said.

“But yes, I love you too.”

FIN

 


End file.
